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CHICAGO, MILWAUKEI AND 
PUGET SOUND RAILWAY 



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ACROSS TJfE CONTINENT 



laabelle Carpenter Kendall 



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CHICAGO, MILWAUKEE fi PUGET SOUND RAILWAY 



Copyri^Kt 1911. ty Geo W Hibb.rd, General Passenger Agent. 

SEATTLE. WASH. 







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'Doubtless God could have wade a better place to fish 
but doubtless God never did. " 



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THE Chicago, Milwaukee & Puget Sound Railway, the Pacific 
Coast extension of the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul 
Railway, in the few years since its actual construction was 
commenced, has opened to settlement a vast new country, a region 
embracing the far west Dakotas, the plains and uplands of 
Montana, and the mountains, where still unknown stores of minerals 
are hidden away. It has crossed the Missouri and the Columbia 
rivers, the most famous streams of this continent, and penetrated 
to the heart of the great riches of Idaho and Washington, to their 
wonderful fruit-producing valleys, to the hills, which carry on their 
rugged slopes unbroken phalanxes of giant timber, sufficient to 
supply the Western Hemisphere for hundreds of years to come. 

From the Missouri River to Puget Sound the new Northwest 
is vibrant with life and responding to the activities of busy com- 
munities. This railroad has created new markets for eastern 
manufactures, and this empire of the new West is producing in 
boundless quantity all that makes for the wealth of the nation. 
Practically from the laying of the first steel on the Puget Sound 
road the development has progressed by leaps and bounds, and 
with the final completion and the inauguration of fast passenger 
service this railroad is able to introduce its patrons to a wide- 
spread prospect of highly cultivated country, to young cities of 
phenomenal growth, to industries tliat would do credit to old 
communities, and to all the operations and busy life incident to 
commercial prosperit)'. 

Chicago is the eastern terminus of the new through train 
service and the route, via the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul 







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Railway, to the Twin Cities of Minnesota lies through the garden 
of the Middle West, traversing the rolling Illinois prairies, 
Wisconsin's hills and dales, passing along the banks of the 
Mississippi in Minnesota, every mile of which reveals a picture of 
compelling charm. Along the way are beautiful cities and thriving 
towns, chief of which is Milwaukee, Wisconsin's metropolis, situated 
on an arm of Lake Michigan, whose sweeping shore line and deep 
blue waters rival the famous Bay of Naples. 

From St. Paul and Minneapolis to Mobridge, S. D., the St. Paul 
Railway traverses some of the choicest portions of the peerless 
golden grain belt of the Northwest, a territory which not longer 
than a quarter of a century ago lay under the open sky — vast, 
treeless and windswept, but now teeming with life and energy. 
Magnificent fields of grain ripen under the harvest sun; busy 
towns dot the plains, and on every side, far and near, are tree- 
embowered homesteads which have grown into their present 
beauty since the first railway locomotive poked its exploring head- 
light into the prairie countries. This portion of Minnesota and 
the Dakotas is a part of the greatest agricultural section of the 
United States and stands as a promise of the wonderful resources 
in the territory of the newer West. Western cities are renowned 
for rapid growth and their reputation is not discredited throughout 
this region. 

Aberdeen, the metropolis of this section, assumes the pseu- 
donym, "Chicago of the Northwest," and with reason, since its 
commercial activity, the busy life of its streets, its substantial 
appearance and general physical robustness are salient features 
of its great prototype. 

At Mobridge, ninety-eight miles west of Aberdeen, the 
Chicago, Milwaukee & Puget Sound Railway swings away westward, 
crossing the Missouri River on a superb steel bridge, one of the 
most noted structures of its kind in the world. Three towering 
spans, each 425 feet in length, rising sixty-five feet above the rails, 
and four massive piers, that lift the superstructure fifty-five feet 
above the stream, distinguish this as the heaviest bridge ever 
thrown across the great river. 

Ivlobridge is an incorporated city, with but few years to its 
credit, and its remarkable progress and prosperous condition are 
typical of the new towns that have grown up on this line, scarcely 
one of which, with a population above 100, that has not some of the 
attributes of municipal advancement; and most of them boast a 
city water system, electric lighting, broad, graded streets, concrete 
sidewalks and the best of commercial institutions. Education is of 
paramount importance in these new communities and every one of 
them is the possessor of a commodious schoolhouse, and provides 
educational facilities of the first order; while in every hamlet, 
howsoever modest, skyward-pointing spires indicate one or more 
edifices devoted to the religious welfare of the people. 



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The Missouri River Bridge 




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Just west of the river is the Standing Rock Reservation, the 
home of the famous fighting Sioux Indians. A portion of this 
reserve has recently been thrown open to settlement, but the 
Indians still occupy the choicest sections toward the east. They 
are, for the most part, industrious and educated. At Wakpala, 
their principal town, there are three denominational schools, and 
in this place live the only surviving descendants of Sitting Bull, 
the untamed old "Medicine Chief." The old warrior's last resting 
place is at Fort Yates, the Standing Rock Agency, north of this 
line. He died the death of the Unconquered, but he lies now 
beneath the long grasses, with "none so poor to do him reverence." 
Rain-in-the-Face, his unwavering ally and unfailing companion is 
buried beside him; and fitting it is that these two, united during 
most of their stormy lives, should not in death be separated. 
McLaughlin, the railway distributing point for the Agency, is the 
nearest station on this line to the graves of this notable pair. It 
is claimed that Sitting Bull was the most famous Indian since 
Tecumseh; that he planned and gained the greatest victories ever 
achieved by the red men over his white foes. " Nor will any 
warrior of the future ever surpass Sitting Bull, for the last great 
battle between the two races has been fought." 

That portion of the reservation now open is high rolling prairie 
land, watered by innumerable streams that flow over the Grand 
River water-shed. The country is filling up fast and rapidly 
swinging into the advancing line of the great western farming 
district. Nature has contributed everything to this northwestern 
section of South Dakota — a soil of remarkable productivity, a 




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plentiful water supply, good and cheap fuel and a delightful 
climate; and the new railroad, in building up the towns and 
establishing unsurpassed service, is the principal factor in bringing 
this development to a high degree of eiTiciency. The Cheyenne 
River Indian Reservation adjoins the Standing Rock, on the south, 
comprising two great plateaus lying between the Grand, Aloreau 
and Cheyenne Rivers. The JMoreau River and Cheyenne River 
lines, sixty and one hundred miles respectively, occupy this section, 
connecting with the main line at Moreau Junction, immediately 
west of the Missouri River. At McLaughlin the Standing Rock 
line leads to the north and west, 130 miles, penetrating the fertile 
valley of the Cannonball River, to the rejuvenated town of 
New England, N. D. Ninety-eight miles west of the Missouri River, 
at Lemmon, one of the most substantial and enterprising of the 
new towns, the railway enters southwest North Dakota, running 
thence for nearly 100 miles through the same boundless reaches 
of prairie and upland, incomparably attractive in their brilliant 
display of growing crops and golden sunshine. In this day, with so 
much being said of the decadence of the farm and the desertion of 
the farmer lads to the cities, it is an inspiring commentary that 
steam plows, many in number, can hardly break out land fast 
enough to meet the demands of immigration. 

To the westward the upland sweep becomes more apparent. 
Here and there a crested butte or a rugged bluff lifts itself above 
the plains, Nature's guide-boards to the distant mountains. In 
Adams County, through which the railroad passes, rich coal fields 
underlie the entire district, providing an excellent quality of lignite 



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coal. Two mines are already in operation at the town of Scranton, 
and preparations are being made to open others. Climatic con- 
ditions in this locality are favorable to diversified farming on a 
large scale; it is within the region of the warm chinook winds, 
spring opens early and destructive winters are unknown. The 
average rainfall is 16^2 inches, and the water supply is pure and 
abundant. 

Near Marmarth, at the crossing of the Little Missouri River 
and the North Dakota-Montana State boundary, the line for a 
short distance skirts the "Bad Lands," weird formations of sun- 
baked clay, which, from a distance, or seen by the sunset light, 
seem almost enchanted. Rising sheer from the plains, they take on 
shapes of battlements, fortresses, turrets, towers, 

" Temples, palaces and piles stupendous. 
Of which the very ruins are tremendous." 

Marvelous color effects appear in the layers of rock and ridges 
of clay — deep wine reds, that fade to faintest pink; purples, 
paling to lavender; delicate greens, and tones and half tones of 
all, glow in the noon-day sun or melt into gorgeous rose hues at 
the setting. 

If no good came to the Indians from out those rugged wastes, 
certainly the wonderful studies in tint and blend, in atmosphere, 
in color motif, in all that delights the artist eye, gives to this region 
an interest all its own. The Bad Lands, moreover, in proof that 
all things work together for good, furnish excellent shelter for the 
immense herds of cattle that range throughout this vicinity. 








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In the "Bad Lands" 




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Entering Alontana, in Custer County, the railway passes 
through the valley of O'Fallon's Creek to the Yellowstone River, 
a locality famous in Indian history. In the melancholy days of the 
Custer campaigns, Sioux and soldiers marched and countermarched 
in the Yellowstone Valley from O'Fallon's to the Rosebud, and 
sixty miles southwest from the mouth of the latter stream occurred 
the tragedy of the Little Big Horn. Custer County, in the vicinity 
of O'Fallon Valley, and toward the Yellowstone, is one of the 
garden spots of the great eastern Montana plateau, which in the 
old days was considered arid and waste, and its riches comprise a 
long list. Irrigation and dry-farming have worked the change — 
the valleys are green and glorious, and the benchlands, that sweep 
up from the lower levels, produce immense crops of grain under 
the Campbell system. The biennial yield in Custer County equals 
and frequently exceeds two annual crops in other localities. On the 
high lands of this county, the homestead entries include 320 acres 
instead of the usual 160. 

Entering Yellowstone Valley the railway dips to the southwest, 
passing through a wide and fertile basin, further enriched by an 
underlay of good lignite coal. Cattle and sheep throng the hills 
for many miles, and the towns along the way are all heavy stock 
and wool shipping points. All this surrounding territory presents 
a lovely landscape picture of bottom-lands dotted with groves, 
gently elevating, well-grassed benches, which reach clear to the 
foothills, and extend to Miles City, situated at the junction of the 
Tongue with the Yellowstone River, and the metropolis of eastern 
Montana. Miles is an old town for Montana, having been founded 




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in 1878, after the establishment of Fort Keogh on the Tongue 
River. The evolution of this city from a " post town " has carried it 
through an exciting career as a "cow-town," when the surrounding 
country was all free range, to its present pretension of being the 
greatest wool-shipping center of eastern Montana and the largest 
range horse market- in the world. Outwardly it is beautiful, 
set in a wealth of verdure and embellished with the best that 
money and good taste can suggest. Fort Keogh has been aban- 
doned as a military post and is now a "Cavalry Remount Station," 
while the fertile country surrounding it is under irrigation and 
highly cultivated. In following the course of the Yellowstone 
down to its confluence with the Missouri, Captain Clarke of the 
Lewis and Clarke Expedition, in 1807, made the following note: 
"Encamped on the left, opposite to the entrance of a stream called 
by the Indians Lazcka or Tongue River. It has a very wide bed 
and a channel of water 150 yards wide; but the water is a light 
brown colour, very muddy and nearly milk warm." This warm 
water, flowing over the soil from the present irrigating canals, 
produces fruit and vegetables of extraordinary quality and quantity. 
West of Aliles City the line crosses to the north bank of the 
Yellowstone, following that river closely for a number of miles. 
Opposite the mouth of the Rosebud, which empties into the 
Yellowstone from the south, there now stands the new town of 
Cartcrsville, near the site of an old American Fur Company fort 
or trading post. During the Sitting Bull campaigns all this plateau 
waked to the call of "Boots and Saddles," and waited in vain 
for the return of those who marched away from the Rosebud to 



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the battlefield of the Little Big Horn. Much of Montana, in the 
parlance of today, is "new country," and yet, her plains and her 
hills, her valleys and mountains are historic ground, and her rivers 
are avenues of discovery in the unfolding of that " immense, 
unbounded world" included in the Louisiana Purchase. 

At Forsyth the rails again point northwestward into the heart 
of the great Montana sheep range, where, for miles in every direc- 
tion, as far as eye can see, the panorama is a moving sea of gray 
woolly backs intermingled with the delicate green of the sage, 
while on the distant ridge a white speck indicates the herder's 
wagon, with perhaps the dark form of the herder and his dogs 
moving on the edge of the flocks. The valleys and the range itself 
are gradually slipping from control of the stock men, and under 
the beneficent influences of various new irrigation schemes are 
becoming valuable agricultural lands. Throughout the range 
country the railway makes an imperceptible but steady ascent of 
the Home Creek Divide, and at the summit, in the clear Alontana 
atmosphere, the far-distant Snowy Mountains may be seen at the 
northwest. Descending thence to the Big Bend of the Alusselshell 
River, the line enters Fergus County and pursues its way up the 
valley of the Musselshell for many miles, through wide and fertile 
bottom-lands, nearly all of which, since the construction of the 
railroad, have been taken up and are under cultivation. The 
Musselshell is a mountain-fed stream, whicli in the summer-time 
flows softl}^ 

"Willi a noise like the sound of a hidden brook 
In the leafy month of June," 



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Two Tunnels and a Bridge, Montana (lanjon 







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within its tree-lined banks, that wind in sinuous length from side 
to side of the valley, with broad fields and green meadows 
beside its course. The river received its name from fossilized 
remains of the mussel-fish found in the rocks and hills at the edge 
of the valley. 

The Musselshell \'alley, from Melstone westward, and tributary 
to this railroad, is an area of extraordinary beauty and fertility. 
The wide valley, watered by the winding stream and rimmed by 
the gradually rising bench, is ideal for all agricultural pursuits. 
The climate is mild, with ample rainfall, and the soil is the deep 
volcanic ash so universally found throughout Montana. Extensive 
coal deposits are present here, and at Roundup four large mines 
are in active operation. Roundup is one of the wonders of the 
new West; the first spade was struck for its foundation in 1908, 
and its population in 1911 is 3,000. Its designation, the "Miracle 
of the Musselshell," is befitting its rapid development, and, withal, 
its remarkably attractive features. It is eminently a modern city, 
having every comfort and convenience to be found in towns many 
times its size and age, while its beautiful situation, on the hills 
which slope gently to the deeply wooded river banks, make it a 
delightful and a healthful place. The surrounding country and the 
numerous coal mines give it rank as a commercial center of the first 
importance, insuring also its permanent progress. The old stage 
road, which was originally a buffalo trail leading from the grazing 
pastures at the south to the Missouri River, far north, crosses the 
railroad near here, and the old stage station that first bore the 
name of Roundup still stands under the alders on the river banks. 



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While the overland trains tli under by, the old Concord coach 
stands in the deserted sheds, dismantled and dust-covered, and 
the moldering bones of the buffalo lie half-buried by the roadside, 
each a crumbling relic of days that are past. 

Toward the western border of Fergus County the mountams 
loom in the distance, sradually rising in all their majesty across 
the western horizon. Snowy peaks and snow-clad slopes move 
slowly into view, at once overtopped by more majestic heights, 
which steal gracefully into the perspective, the great picture, a 
changeful panorama, as the railroad, pushing on, brings them into 
closer range. Broadview, a large experimental farm located south 
of the railroad in this vicinity, has demonstrated by the quantity 
and quality of its production the adaptability of the soil to any 
desired crops and the remarkable success of the dry-farming system 
on semi-arid land. At Harlowton the mountains come suddenly 
forward in full, impressive splendor. At the southwest are the 
snow-ribbed Crazy Range, the Big Belts rise at the west swinging 
into the Big Snowys toward the north and settling into the Judith 
hills at the northeast. 

The Lewistown line, leaving the main line at Harlowton, 
begins an immediate ascent northeastward toward the Judith 
Basin which lies within walls of lofty mountain ranges, one of the 
most beautiful and richest agricultural regions in the whole world. 
A marked depression in the mountains is the Judith Gap, where 
the railway gains entrance to the magnificent amphitheatre that 
contains over 2,000 square miles, sweeping in galleries of bench- 
land down to the broad expanse of level valley. Numb.rUss 



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streams carry their waters through field and meadow, joining the 
swift little Judith River, which flows into the Missouri, sixty-five 
miles away. Many prosperous little towns dot the great basin, 
which is practically one immense grain field, while in the far-away, 
hazy hills and the nearer, darkly wooded ridges are enormous stores 
of mineral wealth. On a steady decline, in long loops and curves, 
the road negotiates the descent, and with a final all-embracing 
"horse-shoe," that fairly encircles the city, the rails come to an 
end in beautiful Lewistown, the commercial center of the Basin. 
Lewistown is a charming city of 5,000, and, like all progressive 
western municipalities, it is provided with the best of everything 
that makes for the joy of living and for business prosperity. The 
locality recommends itself as a place of residence by reason 
of its equable climate, its exceptional educational opportunities 
and social advantages. It has a very large mercantile trade, 
furnishing supplies for the mining industries located in the 
surrounding mountains, and the great farming country that is 
naturally tributary to Lewistown. 

The scenic beauties of the region are many, combining peaceful 
rural vistas, towering heights, sparkling streams that dance gleefully 
between deep, green overhanging banks, and magnificent distances 
that melt into mystic, hazy, cloud-hung mountain ranges. In the 
near-by mountains are innumerable interesting resorts for fishing 
and hunting, notably the Lake of the Snowys, reached by wagon 
or automobile, where the fishing and hunting equal the most 
famous haunts in the West. 

In the Moccasin Mountains are the cyanide gold mines, that 
brought this region into prominence many years ago, the famous 
Kendall mine, still in operation, being within a two hours' drive 
of Lewistown, with a daily stage between the two places, and a 
branch of the railroad projected thither in the near future. The 
Yogo sapphire mines, unique in this country, are in the Big 
Snowy Alountains, where the towering, snow crown of Yogo Baldy 
Mountain glitters in the bright light, forty miles away. 

The mountain drives throughout this region are beautiful, with 
a wild picturesqueness that combines heavy climbing, down-hill 
dashes, wide, parklike reaches and narrow, walled-in canyons, 
where wheel and stream contest the right-of-way. 

The Judith Basin is the home of legend and the scene of 
stirring historical events. In this place the Indian tribes fore- 
gathered, the Sioux, Crows, Blackfeet and Flatheads, to hold their 
powwows, their war dances and their calumets; on Black Butte, a 
grim headland north of the valley, warning fires blazed forth, and 
council beacons smouldered. It is related that the pious Father 
de Smet, the fearless Jesuit of the far western mountains, attended 
a great peace council of the tribes in the Judith Basin in 1844. 
The basin itself takes its name from the little river which carries 
the waters of many creeks to the great river of the north, and it 



receiv-ed its christening from a member of the Lewis and Clarke 
Expedition, in honor of a fair-faced Virginian "Miss Judy," whose 
haunting beauty was a pleasant picture in his memory. There 
were cowboy days in this valley, too, and their exploits become 
picturesque as time lends the distance of enchantment. This 
gentry were always the self-appointed exterminators of hostile 
red-skins, and a letter preserved in the annals of the Judith Coun- 
try is written by Cowboy "Froggy" to "Bill," his partner, who 
has been called from home. It is essentially illustrative, and a 
model news-conveyancer. It reads: 

•■ Dear Bill: — 

A fcUfr's passin' by, and I got a chanst to send you a Itttur. 
Everythin's been goin' fine since you left. There was a Indian here 
yesterday. He was a chief. I shot him. He's dead. Potatoes lookin' 
fine. Expect to make some more whisky tomorrow. 

Vours, Fkog<;y." 

The main line of the Puget Sound Railway extends west from 
Harlowton, up the Musselshell water course, through the remnant 
of Montana's once all-pervading grazing empire. The ascent into 
the mountain country begins at Harlowton, and as the valley 
gradually recedes the slopes become more marked; the mountains 
"clad like Bedouins in fleecy white" march out in long file on 
every side and swing into line grandly; the softly beautiful Crazy 
peaks and the ragged Bridger Range lift their snowy sides on 
the southwest; the embattlemented Castle Hills rise sheer and 
frowning on the north, and the long line of the Big Belts loom 



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darkly across the western sky. Toward the summit of the Castle 
Hills Pass, the whole mighty battalion is in full review, massed in 
front and flank and closing the retreat. Immediately west of the 
summit, extending northward, is the valley of Smith River, one of 
Montana's many wide and fertile agricultural parks lying within, 
and protected by lofty mountain barriers. Eighteen miles north of 
the station of Ringling, and in the heart of the Smith River Valley, 
is White Sulphur Springs, the county seat of Meagher County, a 
town approaching its thirtieth year, the possessor of a group of hot 
sulphur springs that rival the world's famous spas. The town is 
equipped with all the modern luxuries and surrounded by scenic 
wonders of great attraction, yet the remarkable thing Is that 
this little city has never until the present heard the sound of a 
locomotive whistle, but the completion of the White Sulphur 
Springs & Yellowstone Park Railway brings the steel trail into this 
Paradise. A magnificent new hotel, to be erected, will complete 
the rejuvenation of White Sulphur Springs and create a resort 
which will have no superior in the world. 

The Smith River Valley is one of the choicest agricultural 
districts in the State, where irrigation and dry-farming succeed 
equally well in producing some of the largest of the Montana 
crops. The scenic beauty of this valley is rarely lovely — a wide 
and level basin surrounded by lofty mountains, with peaks of 
eternal snow maintaining guard above the crest line. On the 
west are the Big Belts and at the east the palisades, pulpits and 
turrets of the Castle Hills, while far away, in the south, the 
Bridger Mountains look over the intervening uplands. 



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Gradually descending, the railway follows a sparkling stream 
toward a gap in the mountains which leads into the wild and 
surpassingly beautiful Montana Canyon. The rollicking brook is 
the famous Sixteen Alile Creek, one of the most noted trout-fishing 
streams in the State. Its cold, clear, leaping waters and its deep, 
quiet pools are fairly ali\e with mountain trout. It requires no 
imagination to properly produce a fish story after a day in this 
canyon and the full creel proves, at sight, that in Si.xteen Mile 
Creek truth is something more than fiction. 

Winding into the narrow gorge, the towering, densely wooded 
eminence that seems to bar the way is Wall Mountain, pierced 
by a tunnel, which may properly be called the eastern gateway 
of the Montana Canyon. This canyon, which early acquired fame 
as "The Sixteen Mile," offers one of the most exquisitely beautiful 
scenic pictures in the Rocky Mountain regions, embracing within 
its narrow barriers and short distance all the majestic features of 
mountain scenery, done in wonder-worked detail. Crags and 
pinnacles, intermingled with jagged ridges, thrust boldly from out 
the steep slopes; beetling heights and fearsome depths are grouped 
in magnificent confusion. The gorge, which Nature opened only 
for the impetuous stream, carries on its precipitous walls a railway 
that is a marvel of scientific calculation, demonstrating the most 
ad\-anced ideas in railroad construction — deep cuts, heavy embank- 
ments, bridges that seem hung in the air, span deep ravines, and 
tunnels intervene when heights become prohibitive. So sharply 
do the canyon walls advance and as quickly retreat, that vistas 
which seem to open in the distance are suddenly crowded back 



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where a massive promontory leaps out to close the perspective. 
Curving gently, the rails steadily negotiate a direct course, while 
the old Montana Railroad, the predecessor of this line through the 
Big Belt Mountains, and the early pathfinder in this canyon, 
followed closely the bank of the stream, far below. Traces of the old 
railroad grade are yet standing, following a wayward trail, careless 
alike of " angles, curves or sinuosities." Over all the rugged grandeur 
of this narrow chasm a matchless color display is emblazoned 
on the granite walls. Creamy whites blend with softest rose and 
palest lavender and brilliant reds mingle with the green and gray 
and blue, and all is softened and shadowed by every shade of 
green from the dense darkness of the looming forests to the silvery 
sheen of the birches overhanging the brink of the precipices, and 
nodding to the deep blue waters lashing to foamy white in the 
depths of the chasm. This canyon, in old Indian days, was a 
hiding place for the hostiles. Ambush and sortie were practiced 
to perfection in this mountain fastness, and a number of hidden 
caverns have been discovered containing heaps of moldering bones, 
as if the redmen had plunged into these retreats, but found no 
sanctuary at the last. 

About midway the canyon widens, opening for a number of 
miles into a broad and smiling valley, whose meadows are rich 
with growing grain. The dark wall of Big Blackfoot Mountain 
looms on the west of these meadows and the snow-covered crown 
of Ross Peak towers above it. As the canyon walls come sharply 
in again, the grandeur increases, with the gorgeous coloring more 
vivid and splendid than before. Gradually descending, the rails 
issue from the deep gorge at the Missouri River and cross that 
stream 623 miles west of Mobridge, or 1,000 miles as the river 
flows. The beauty of this spot is wild and impressive. 

The cliffs tower to great heights and their ragged ledges are as 
if they had been decorated from "paint pots" which Madame 
Nature might have taken out of her stores over in Yellowstone Park, 
not sixty miles away, so gorgeous and yet so soft are the hues that 
shine through the lacy green of the trees and offer their contrast 
to the nodding flowers which look out from between crags and 
shelving rocks. The bridge at Lombard is the first one across 
the Missouri River below its headwaters, and, westward, the line 
lies close to the waterside where the ri\-er breaks through lofty 
granite walls and glittering, white limestone cliffs. These cliffs 
are the finest lime of commerce and will become a source of 
great wealth to this locality. The country is wild and moun- 
tainous, alternating with smiling valleys, through which the 
bright river flows. 

On the right, well up to the headwaters, are high headlands 
recorded by Lewis and Clarke as being those ascended by their 
party, and from which they first beheld the long-expected Three 
Forks, the historic place of the waters' meet, where three swiftly 




Near the Headwaters of the Missouri 




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flowing streams sweep in from east, from south and from west, 
and, coming togetlier, form Alissouri's might}' flood. The Three 
Forks Plain is the country of Lewis and Clarke. The atmosphere 
is heavy with historic association and romantic legend. To reach 
this place the fearless explorers had bent all their energies, breasting 
the swift current, portaging where rapids and falls obstructed the 
river way, and patiently threading the dark, silent mountain gorges 
where the waters raced madly, or sullenly opposed the invaders 
of their ancient domain. Guided by the unerring intuition of 
Sacajawea, the Indian woman who had told them of the meeting of 
three great rivers, they at length rested on that "level, handsome 
plain, surrounded on every side with distant and lofty mountains" 
where her tribesmen had been accustomed to hunt the buffalo in 
the days of her childhood. 

Railroads now edge this plain and a thriving city has grown up 
in its midst. The city of Three Forks is, in a way, "an infant 
prodigy." Less than two years old, it has become a metropolitan 
center, a division point of this railway and a junction with the 
new Gallatin Valley Railway. Thus the rich tributary country 
which has already so mightily stimulated the growth of a town 
on the Three Forks Plain, will continue to pour its wealth into 
this center, adding year by year to the substantial character of 
this place. 

The rivers which come together here were named by the 
Government Expedition; the one coming from the southeast was 
called the Gallatin, in honor of the Secretary of the Treasury; that 
from the south was named for James Aladison, the Secretary of 





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State, and the southwestern branch perpetuated the name of 
Thomas Jefferson, the President of the United States. 'l"he last 
stream bore a closer resemblance in most of its features to the great 
river itself, and it was this stream which the navigators finally 
chose for their route beyond the mountains to the Columbia and 
the North Pacific Ocean. The valley of the Jefferson is also the 
chosen route for this railway, which, after crossing a noted fishing 
stream called Willow Creek (but which according to the Lewis and 
Clarke records was christened Philosophy River), passes through a 
fine open valley stretching away to the base of the snow-topped 
Tobacco Root Range on the south, and to the foot of the 
Continental Divide at the west and north. On the approach to 
the mountains the line swings in long and easy curvature into 
the Grand Canyon of the Jefferson River, the rapid current flowing 
closely for many miles. 

The grade follows the contour of the canyon walls, which press 
forward in majestic, deeply cut ridges clear to the river brink. In 
this canyon, too, color and light run riot — dark red sandstone cliffs 
alternate with purest white limestone walls that stand forth in 
dazzling contrast to the wealth of deep forest green that clothes 
the hillsides. West of the canyon the valley widens and broad 
acres of fertile bottoms lie along the river. On the southern horizon 
the Tobacco Root Mountains suddenly advance their snowy 
peaks, receding as the line swings away from the river across the 
rolling foothills toward the Continental Divide, the backbone of 
the real Rocky Mountains. At Piedmont the mountain grade 
begins and the line shoots away directly toward the foothills, rising 



I 



gradually above the wondrouslv lovely Pipestone \'alley, that is 
like a mighty park, with broad avenues and bright water-courses 
sparkling through it. In this valley is a collection of curative 
springs of widespread fame for their beneficial effects in the treat- 
ment of rheumatic and stomach troubles. From this ascent, on 
clear days, off to the south imagination may draw the outline of 
"The Old Man of the Mountain" lying at ease on the ridge of the 
tallest of the Tobacco Root peaks. From the base of the Rockies a 
long series of easy curves, steadily lifting, carry the rails into the 
heart of a stern splendor, typical of the Great Divide. From the 
heights, the magnificent panorama of valley, hill and towering 
mountains is an inspiring picture. Entering Fish Creek Canyon 
the railway passes through deep cuts hewn from the solid rock, 
emerging thence to fleeting views of the dark canyon bed — a 
vanishing picture of cloud-capped summits and glimpses of gloomy 
chasms and rock-riven gorges, where the foaming waters leap, 
scattering veils of mist, and smiling through rainbow colors at the 
sunshine which glances but hastily into these depths. On a steady 
rise the Divide is reached and the western slope is gained through 
Pipestone Pass tunnel, at an elevation of 6,350 feet above sea-level, 
the highest point on this railway. This tunnel, though nearly one- 
half mile in length, is as straight as an arrow, and looking from 
either entrance, the far-away exit is to be seen, a tiny spot of light 
out of the darkness. The waters of the mountains divide on this 
rugged crest line, those flowing to the east finding their way through 
Missouri water to the Atlantic Ocean, and those on the western 
slope seek the North Pacific by Columbia's devious course. 





.1 



The Crest of the Continent 




From the Continental Divide to Butte, the line slips easily 
along the mountain-side, with Silver Bow valley spread in mag- 
nificent perspective, below, while the towers and stacks of the 
world-famous Butte mines rise on the skyline, with the city's 
crescent outline in the foreground. Swinging completely around the 
picturesque valley, the railway enters Butte, the most remarkable 
city in the world. The largest city in Montana, it numbers 60,000 
people, and is thoroughly progressive and eminently modern. Its 
buildings, its merchandise stocks, its crowded thoroughfares and its 
population are reproductions of the eastern idea, with enough of the 
breezy western impetus to place it far above any city of the same 
size in tlie East. It, of course, owes its existence to the wonderful 
copper hill upon which it is built. Its copper mines penetrate the 
mountain in every direction, the galleries extending far under the 
city streets. Before the improved methods for reducing ores, Butte 
was the blackness of desolation, owing to the sulphur fumes which 
pervaded the atmosphere and killed all vegetation, but since the 
erection of the immense smelter stacks at Anaconda and Great 
Falls the fumes are dissipated far above the hills and away from 
the town, so that the verdure has returned, flowers and grass 
thrive and trees and birds are reappearing. Butte, the unique, is 
becoming a city beautiful. 

West from Butte, the Chicago, Milwaukee & Puget Sound 
Railway runs through the lovely Silver Bow Canyon, where the 
rugged, rock-bound walls are pictures painted in the most delicate 
and brilliant colorings. Strange formations out-thrust from the 
sheer mountain sides are decorated in fantastic color schemes, 



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and deep ravines blend their darlv shadows with the blazonry on 
granite and sandstone. Toward the west the canyon widens into 
Deer Lodge Valley, a wide sweep of fertile agricultural country, 
surrounded by huge mountains and watered by many sparkling 
mountain streams. South of Deer Lodge Valley are the noted 
Beaver Head and Big Hole regions of Montana, with the city of 
Anaconda, their metropolis. Anaconda, like Butte, is a product of 
Marcus Dalv's discoveries, and the city grew out of the establish- 
ment there of the Washoe smelter, the largest reduction works in 
the world. It is a model city and a delightful place. It boasts 
the finest hotel in the State, standing exactly one mile above 
the sea-level. It is the county scat, has a fine school system, 
a splendid memorial library, substantial business blocks and 
sumptuous homes. 

At the farther end of the valley is the city of Deer Lodge, one 
of the oldest and most attractive towns in Montana. It is a place 
of much wealth; its wide streets are lined with over-arching trees 
and its palatial homes are owned by many of Montana's pioneers. 
There are many large institutions, public and private, located 
here, among which is the State Penitentiary. Many of the 
earliest gold mines of this section of Montana were on Silver 
Bow Creek and Deer Lodge River, between Anaconda and Deer 
Lodge, and the oldest stamp mill is still standing at the little 
town of Silver Bow. r • i 

West of Deer Lodge the line traverses a broad plam of rich, 
alluvial soil, cultivated clear to the base of the mountains. 
Immense hay fields stretch its entire length, with Deer Lodge River 



contributing to their fertility. The transverse valleys throughout 
this section are singularly well adapted to grazing and dairy 
industries. As the valley narrows into Hell Gate Canyon, there 
is a certain romantic interest gathered here, by reason of it 
being the scene of the first gold excitement in Montana. Gold 
Creek, flowing into the Deer Lodge, brought in golden sands 
from the hills at the south, and in 1850, near its confluence 
with the larger stream, Francois Benetsee, a half-breed prospector 
and trapper, first discovered the yellow particles and panned a 
fortune there. 

It was Montana's first call of the gold and the stampede began 
then and there, which resulted in Pioneer, in Virginia City and in 
the lawless days of the territory. Hell Gate Canyon became a wild 
and terrifying district, and the road agent was master, until his 
standing in society was finally and definitely fixed by the vigilantes, 
who cleared Montana's escutcheon and opened the way for a law- 
respecting citizenship. There is still some placer mining near 
Pioneer, but the richest veins have long since "pinched out," and 
whatever hidden treasure there now is, remains locked in unknown 
rifts in the rock-ribbed giants which enclose the valley, awaiting 
some fortune hunter of the future. 

Hell Gate Canyon is also linked with many other thrilling 
events in Montana's history. As early as 1840 the Jesuit mission- 
aries, whom the Indians named "The Black- Robes" followed this 
trail into the Bitter Root Valley, where they established, at 
St. Mary's, the first Christian church in the territory. Fearless and 
careless of personal danger, the zealous Fathers sought the Indians 




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The Home of the Rainbow Trout 




and taught them the gentle arts of peace. They Introduced 
intensive farming in the West and brought seeds into Alontana 
from the Columbia River country, where their thrift had already 
made the desert bloom. 

The railroad follows the old trail through the canyon, and 
as its western portal opens, a great mountain panorama is unrolled, 
with the city of Missoula in the foreground. Just as the valley 
widens, the Big Blackfoot River comes in from the north and 
joining the Hell Gate, the stream then becomes the Missoula. 
Missoula is the French trapper's shortening of the old Indian 
Missouleti-cou, meaning "at the waters of ambush," and just 
where the river emerges from the mountains are three tall peaks 
on one side and a curious elephant-shaped hill nearly closing the 
gap on the opposite, making ideal ambuscade. From Sentinel 
Peaks went forth the signals which brought the Indians to the shadow 
of Jumbo Butte, to lie in ambush for the enemy. Missoula is well 
named "The Garden City." Its shaded avenues, its gorgeous 
floral display and the luxurious lawns which surround the homes 
of rich and poor alike, present a perfect garden picture. It has 
large and complete commercial facilities, giving it first rank in 
the business world. Every comfort and convenience of modern 
life is afforded — fine schools, elegant churches, several libraries 
for the use of the public, one of the largest mercantile establish- 
ments in Montana, many manufacturing plants and unlimited 
opportunities for every branch of trade. The State University 
is located at Missoula and there is also a large Catholic seminary 
here. The river furnishes inexhaustible water power for the city 





use. The tributary country is enormous and adapted to any 
branch of agricultural pursuits. Intensive farming is ideal; fruit 
matures perfectly and is free from pest of any kind. Missoula 
is the metropolis of the famous Bitter Root Valley and the home 
of the Mcintosh red apple. The Bitter Root River joins the 
Missoula within the city limits; lofty mountains look down on 
every side; the Continental Divide bars the eastern horizon; the 
dark green ridges of the Bitter Root Range are at the south and 
west, and the vague, icy summits of the Mission Mountains 
loom in the north. 

This is historic ground connected with every period of western 

Montana growth. Here again the railway crosses the route of 

the Lewis and Clarke expedition, which passed through the 

Bitter Root Valley and over the Bitter Root Mountains; and 

west of the city they gave the Missoula River the name of 

Clarke's Fork of the Columbia. On the river banks and in the 

foothills live many of the descendants of the French explorers 

who followed Father de Smet into the wilderness and founded 

their homes in the shelter of the protecting heights. Notable, 

also, in the annals of the warfare between white men and Indians 

is the retreat of Chief Joseph and his warriors who, stealing away 

across Nez Perces Pass, avoided the trap laid for them at Hell 

Gate and escaped on a hidden trail into the Big Hole country 

to the south, whence they continued their flight down the Jefferson 

\'alley, through the Musselshell country and, rounding the hills at 

the Big Bend of the Musselshell River, eluded their pursuers and 

sought sanctuary beyond the Missouri. 




In the Heart of the 



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Ban Lulu Obtspo' 



POOLE BROS. CHICAGO. 



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"Across the Continent" — Map of the Chicago, Milv 



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[loot Mountains 




;e & Puget Sound Railway and Connections 



For many miles west of IVIissoula the rail\va\" leads through 
Grass Valley, among the richest of Montana hay lands, skirting 
the foothills and crossing the Alissoula River several times on its 
way toward the Bitter Root Mountains. The Missoula Valley 
and the adjacent hills are beautiful to look at and good to live in. 
The snow peak at the south — and seen at every turn towering 
above its companions — is Mount LoLo. In this valley the 
universal spirit of progress is apparent; the meadows and uplands 
produce any crop desired and everything desirable. Hay, grain 
and alfalfa have been the principal yield until recent experimental 
work in intensive farming has demonstrated that the soil and 
climate are especially favorable to fruit and garden stuff". In the 
transverse valleys where land is being cleared, dairy farming is 
ideal. Following down the Missoula, which frequently is lost 
between deep, rock-riven walls, where the waters dash in mad 
confusion against hidden reefs — at St. Regis the rails swing into 
St. Regis Canyon and point directly toward the dark ever-green 
mountains that rear their lofty heights on Montana's western 
boundary. The Bitter Root Range is one of the grandest of 
the Rocky Mountain group. Rising steeply from the valley, their 
slopes are covered with an almost unbroken growth of timber, 
presenting an imposing spectacle of row upon row, tier upon tier, 
of brilliant green, that extends from the deep valley to the very 
tip of the tallest peak. The railway makes a gradual ascent of 
this range, the line swinging from hill to hill, curving gracefully 
and pushing steadily upward. In a deep and beautiful ravine, 
where Dominion Creek leaps down to join the ri\'er, a narrow loop 





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brings the rails closely together, but on opposing walls and differing 
elevations. For eleven miles the line rises continuously until the 
hamlets in the St. Regis Valley seem only vanishing views in a 
moving-picture panorama. 

St. Paul Pass, an elevation of 4,170 feet, terminates the ascent 
and the rails pierce the rugged mountain, 1,000 feet below its 
summit. The tunnel here is one of the notable engineering feats 
of the Bitter Root construction, and is but little less than two miles 
long. Within the deep passage the rails cross the Montana-Idaho 
State line, and emerging at the west portal, the downward stretch 
of twenty-two miles commands some of the grandest panoramic 
views in the world. The roadway, supported on a shelf of rock cut 
in the steep slopes, sweeps around the hills, crossing deep ravines 
and sparkling water-courses on magnificent viaducts of steel; 
solving the problems of distance and obstruction by a score of 
tunnels and numberless rocky cuts, the walls of which stand like 
watch towers above the grade. From the high line, near the 
summit, the long and winding way may be seen for many miles, 
lower and lower, until it is lost in the maze of hills that hems in 
the entire perspective. 

It is a matchless mountain view, with the dazzling glory of 
the North Fork River glistening like a silver thread in the shady 
depths. The forest — 

"On the hills, like green-vested choirs, ten million strong. 
Sough to their Maker, an endless Thanksgiving Song; 
While in the valley, the soft-toned organ at the bend. 
Joins in the vesper-hymn, praising God, world without end." 




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Clear Creek Viaduct — Bitter Root Mountains 




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One thousand feet above the valley level, the line turns into 
East Fork Loop, where a deep "fill" is followed by a long tunnel, 
another heavy embankment, a second curving tunnel and a bridge, 
all describing a half circle, with the rails resting, one side on the 
dizzy height of one mountain, the other appreciably lower on the 
opposing wall of another hill, yet not a quarter of a mile apart. 
On these slopes is a paradise of great game — bear, deer, elk and 
moose — while the call of the mountain lion disturbs the deep silence 
of the wood. 

At the foot of the western slope the rails lie close to the St. Joe 
River, which for a long distance is a swiftly flowing stream, but at 
the town of St. Joe it parts with its title, "The Swiftwater," and 
becomes "The Shadowy St. Joe." The line runs within sight of 
this lovely stream for thirty miles, tail mountains walling in 
the valley the entire distance. The Northern Idaho district is in 
the front rank in the development work. It has already demon- 
strated its value in mineral wealth and its timber resources are 
apparent at sight. The wonderful St. Joe Valley, including the 
richest portions of the newly opened Coeur d'Alene Reservation, 
is the most attractive and most desirable of this "Idaho Pan 
Handle," possessing all the natural advantages which make for 
ideal location. 

The timber industries of the St. Joe country are unsurpassed, 
one of the largest sawmills in the Pacific Northwest being located 
at St. Joe, the head of navigation. Steamers ply between St. Joe 
and the ports on Coeur d'Alene Lake. The territory tributary to 
the railroad in this valley possesses varied wealth. Its value as 





farming country can hardly be estimated. The river bottoms are 
rich alluvial soil and tlie cleared land on the mountains is unsur- 
passed for cultivation of all fruits and vegetables. One hillside 
garden at St. Joe is a marvel. The mountain slope is almost 
prohibitive, and certainly a spade is a more valuable implement 
here than a plow, yet the owner has ten acres under high cultivation 
raising vegetables and fruits (berries and apples), from which he 
realizes enormous profits at the Spokane and near-by markets. 
A stairway is cut in the hillside through the center of this garden, 
certainly a unique feature in market gardening. 

At St. Maries, one of the most promising and beautifully situ- 
ated towns on this line, the St. Maries River flows into the St. Joe, 
and the Elk River line leads from this place up the St. Maries X'alley 
into the largest remaining section of standing white pine timber 
in the world. The St. Maries \alley extends southward toward 
the noted Clearwater country of Idaho and contains a large area 
of unsurpassed agricultural and fruit land. Just west of St. Maries 
the main line enters the Coeur d'Alcne Reservation, recently 
opened, and ascends gradually above beautiful Lake Chatcolet, 
a water sheet of which the followers of the faith of Sir Izaak may 
sav with their high priest, "Doubtless God could have made a 
better place to fish, but doubtless God never did." The line rises 
perceptibly through the reservation and enters Washington, in 
Whitman County, one of the banner wheat-raising counties of 
the State. The wide stretch of upland, the rolling, round-head 
hills, as far as eye reaches, are the famed Palouse v/heat fields. 
Immediately west of the Idaho-Montana State boundary, the 






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proposed Spokane "cut-off" will bring the main line into the 
splendid city of the Inland Empire. The railway passes through 
the richest portion of the Palouse country, a section of eastern 
Washington settled upon many years ago and producing immense 
crops of wheat yearly, beside fruit that equals in quality any 
of the famous fruit-growing valleys of the West. 

All this region is watered by numerous creeks flowing into the 
Palouse River, which flows southward into the Snake River; or 
water-courses that carry their streams by way of the Spokane River 
northward to the Columbia. The Spokane country is famous in 
Indian history, for almost every inch of its possession has been 
disputed "knife to the hilt" by the red men who fought for their 
hereditary rights with a fierce persistence. The Coeur d'Alenes, the 
Spokanes, the Nez Perces, and all the tribes to the west and north, 
showed neither mercy nor friendliness to the invaders who came to 
rob them of their ancestral valleys and hills. The battlefields of 
the Modoc wars spread through these plains and the tribes engaged 
were native here. Today the scene is the reverse of warlike. A 
pastoral quiet pervades the region, with thriving cities to vary 
the picture. 

West of Pine City, one of the oldest towns of Eastern 
Washington — and a hamlet that is like a bit of New England 
transferred to the far West — the line swings up to the bluffs that 
overlook Rock Lake, and for nine miles it lies along the high 
palisades of this mysterious body of water which has no known 
source nor has its depth ever been ascertained. Its undercurrent 
is like the quicksands, and no white man has ever been able to 



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The "Lake of Mvstery" — Rock Lake 





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swim across. The Indians, however, cherish a tradition of a royal 
chief who defied the evil spirit that presides in the murky depths, 
and safely breasted the sullen waters. This tradition accounted to 
them for a natural arch above the palisades, raised by the Great 
Spirit in commemoration of the bold deed. The banks are sheer 
walls of rock, of deep reddish hue, jagged and serrated, alternating 
with flat ramparts above precipitous heights. Strange formations 
appear in the surfaces, often uncanny and always picturesque. 
At the head of the lake a miniature cascade falls over the ledges 
in a bridal veil, the clear stream soon losing its identity in the 
clouded waters. South of this lake of mystery, the country 
spreads away in magnificent perspective, watered by Rock Creek, 
on the winding, tree-hung banks of which many of the old settlers 
still reside, their beautiful ranch homes presenting the ideal of 
country life. 

Westward through Adams County the soil becomes lighter 
and dry-farming is practiced exclusively. The plan of summer- 
fallowing is paramount and the Campbell system here attains its 
highest ideal. Meandering streams, their banks lined with verdure, 
relieve the monotony of the immense grain fields that rise over 
the hills to the horizon line. Fine wagon roads lead in from all 
directions and the location of this railway is fortunate in that 
the wagon trains of wheat have — to use the local vernacular — 
"the down-hill pull." 

The Coeur d'Alene Mountains, that have bordered the northern 
skyline, now gradually sink from sight and the Cascade Range 
appears in the distant West, shadowy and snow-capped, and at 





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certain seasons of the }-car the clear atmosphere re\'eals the 
glittering mantle of Mount Rainicr's towering dome, from Warden, 
180 miles away. Mystic, hazy and cloud-like, the master of the 
Cascades lifts its great height into the blue empyrean, marking the 
way to the western seas. Warden is the junction of the Marcellus 
line which leads northward into the heart of one of the rich wheat 
raising districts of Washington. 

Westward, in Grant County, almost due south of the point 
where the Columbia makes its great bend, a wide valley opens 
away at the north of the railroad, wild land, almost exclusivel\', 
but at varying intervals a small stream meanders fitfully through 
the bottoms, and wherever the water-course appears the verdure 
along its banks and the spreading green meadows indicate the 
wealth of the soil under the influence of moisture. This stream is 
the Crab Creek Sink, which flows long distances in a subterranean 
bed, coming to the surface for a space, then disappearing, perhaps 
to reappear at the far side of the valley. Along its southern 
boundary are the brown and barren cliffs of the Saddle Mountains, 
while away at the north, beyond the foothills, are the noted 
Frenchman Hill and Big Bend wheat countries. Tlie Crab Creek 
Basin is said to be the ancient bed of the Columbia Ri\er, which 
in ages long gone had taken this more direct course, until by some 
convulsion of Nature it was turned away at the Big Bend, making 
a wide detour before it again sought its f>ld accustomed channel. 
Crab Creek Sink empties into the Columbia at a gap in the Saddle 
Mountains, where it would seem that the great cataclysm which 
tore the river from its course had riven the solid wall of rock 



■'i 



to permit the passing of the flood. A number of irrigation 
schemes are projected in the Crab Creek district, and when 
their ditches reach its deep volcanic soil, the development will 
be miraculous, adding an enormous acreage to Washington's 
productive territory. 

At Beverly, near the mouth of Crab Creek, the railway crosses 
the peerless river of the Far West on a magnificent steel bridge, 
nearly a mile in length, and lifted above the water sufficiently to 
permit the passage of boats beneath its "through span." West of 
the Columbia the rails rise over the Saddle Mountains, and 
descending thence, enter the magnificent Kittitas Valley. The 
overwhelming beauty of the prospect, spreading out in great 
distances, surrounded by mountain ranges that rise in the north- 
west to the snow line, with the overmastering height of Mount 
Rainier visible at the southwest, is an inspiring sight and one to 
remain forever in the memory. The Kittitas is one of the banner 
fruit districts of Washington, and not only fruit, but everything 
that grows in the temperate zones comes to perfection in this 
region. The Yakima River flows through the western part of 
the valley, providing an inexhaustible water supply for irrigation. 
Kittitas County is the geographical center of Washington and 
the valley contains about 6,000 square miles, with every acre 
of its soil capable of producing everything necessary for the 
subsistence of the human race. In the midst of this garden 
spot is the city of Ellensburg, the county seat and metropolis 
of the valley. It is one of the thriving and most attractive towns 
in Washington. It has every advantage, social and commercial. 




f'1 





The Columbia River Bridge 




to render it a most delightful place of residence, and the beauty 
of its surroundings completes the desirability in this respect. 

History lurks in the background of the sunlit Kittitas Valley. 
The early settlers, moving eastward from the coast and Puget 
Sound countries, fought its possession foot by foot with the Indians, 
who resented their coming. Theirs was the right of eminent 
domain, and they had no wish to share their privileges with their 
pale-faced brethren. The Yakima tribes foregathered there with 
their allies from all sides, and previous to the treaty of Walla Walla 
it is said that 30,000 Indians were encamped at the eastern end of 
the Kittitas, while their chiefs and medicine-men held council with 
the envoys of the United States Government. 

West of Ellensburg the line continues up the Yakima River 
under a long palisade of "painted rocks," whose gorgeous hues 
seem to reflect all the colors of the spectrum. The mountains, 
rising on all sides, are heavily timbered, while coal and mineral are 
hidden beneath their rock-ribbed surfaces. The Cascades are a 
forbidding barrier, their tall, jagged peaks piercing the sky, while 
eternal snows lie on their deeply cleft slopes and glisten from out 
their shadowy canyons. Within deep, green vales are cloudland 
lakes that rival in beauty and magnificence the blue waters of 
Alpine heights. A short distance from the station of Easton, 
where "mountain grade" begins, are the two Lakes Kachess, the 
most dazzlingly lovely water sheets on this continent. Towering, 
pine-clad mountains sweep grandly up from the water-side, and at 
either end eternal snows look down from lofty summits that close 
the encircling chain. The trout fishing in these lakes is renowned 





througliout tlie Pacific countr\', the rainbow beauties sporting in 
countless thousands in their clear, cold waters. At the upper end 
of Little Kachess are the half-ruined buildings of an old Hudson 
Bay Fur Company's post, and the trails of the trappers are still in 
use through the dense forests. 

Another mountain lake, which lies for twelve miles close to the 
railway, at an ele\"ation of 2,485 feet, slightly above Kachess, is 
Keechelus, suspended in a deep basin whose forest banks rise a 
thousand feet in steep slope above the water. Here, too, is 
Fishermen's Paradise. A legend of Lake Keechelus is that the late 
Gen. George B. McClellan, before he had won his spurs, was in the 
Cascade Mountains fighting the hostiles; when, in full retreat over 
Snoqualmie Pass, he found his artillery in the way of a masterl}' 
leave-taking. He, therefore, concluded to drop his guns into the 
waters of Keechelus, near the eastern shore. The spot was carefully 
marked and the guns were lowered. The depth of Keechelus 
is unknown, and when later, an effort was made to recover the 
lost pieces, nevxr a trace of them could be found. McClellan, 
before he left the West, became a noted Indian fighter, and a lofty 
crag, crowning a bold headland on the western slope of these 
mountains, was named in his honor — McClellan's Butte. Siill 
ascending through the deep forests that come close in to the tracks, 
the mountains gather in terrifying numbers and grandeur, and 
the way seems completely blocked by the tremendous barriers. 
The line reaches the summit at Snoqualmie Pass, 3,010 feet high. 
The old Snoqualmie trail, famous in Indian fight and foray, crosses 
the rails immediately east of Laconia, the summit station. On 



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the right of the pass is McCall's Peak, a massive pillar of rugged 
granite that rises, seemingly, out of the right-of-way, and as the 
line swings away on the downward slope, the sharply serrated 
outline of cloud-wreathed, snow-mantled, "fearsome" heights 
crowds in, and the great Cascade Range is risen in its mighty 
glory full on the view. Leaving the pass, the rails follow the 
canyon of the east fork of the Snoqualmie River, amid some of the 
most bewildering scenic splendor of the western world. The 
compelling power of Nature in her magnificent moods is displayed 
in the panorama that unfolds to westward, reaching from the 
white-mantled peaks on the north to kingly Rainier, at the south. 
Rugged, rock-ribbed hills stretch far away into the hazy atmos- 
phere, and tower high above the clouds. From the railroad, that 
lies high on a shelf of rock, the river is lost to view and the rails 
seem to rest on the tops of the tall fir trees which stand in 
unbroken columns on the mountain sides. As the grade swings 
lower, the valley falls abruptly away, the prospect widens and the 
silvery waters of the Snoqualmie River are visible in winding 
course for a long distance. 

The passage of the Cascade Alountains concludes the long 
series of engineering triumphs included in the construction of this 
railroad, and when the grade reaches the level it enters Cedar River 
Valley, pursuing its course along the brink of the pure and 
sparkling stream which supplies the public service of Seattle. As 
the valley spreads out, the rugged splendor softens into the genial 
loveliness of an agricultural landscape, which stretches westward 
to the shores of Paget Sound. The country of the North Pacific 




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is famed for its great fertility, its beauty and its wonderful 
climate. Everything grows in this region with almost tropical 
luxuriance, helped by favoring winds, gentle rains and "golden 
days of sunshine." 

At Moncton, the foot of the mountain grade, a line extends 
down the Snoqualmie River to Everett, in Snohomish County, 
a young and thriving city, whose harbor is already third in 
importance on Puget Sound. Its sawmills and lumber industries 
rank among the largest in the world. It is called "The City of 
Smokestacks," from the number of its mills and factories, and it 
is said the hum of a saw may be heard from one end of Snohomish 
County to the other. The logged-off land in the vicinity is 
inestimably valuable for dairy farming, and milk condenseries form 
one of the important commercial enterprises of Everett. No city 
on the Sound is more beautifully located. The view from Port 
Gardiner Bay is an ever-to-be-remembered picture — the Cascade 
Mountains at the east, with a long range of named and unnamed 
pinnacles monopolizing the shore line; Glacier Peak, 10,000 feet 
high, stands farthest, and down its icy slopes slowly creep the 
frozen rivers that loosen their flood-gates in Lake Chelan; Mount 
Baker lifts its snowy cone in majestic isolation at the far north, 
and Mount Rainier maintains a lonely vigil on the southern horizon. 
The Everett Harbor, situated on Port Gardiner Bay, has in addition 
to its sea front a fresh-water roadstead where vessels of heaviest 
draft can find anchorage, and when certain new Government work 
is completed Everett will enjoy one of the finest salt-water harbors 
on the Pacific Coast and twenty miles of fresh-water wharf frontage. 




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The city has every advantage common to the modern iip-tt)-dale 
metropoHs, is served by transcontinental railroads and a complete 
interurban electric railway. 

Passing down the Cedar River \'alley, in full view of the 
limpid stream, through fertile meadows, under high cultivation, 
the railway branches at Black River Junction, one arm stretching 
toward Seattle and the other toward Tacoma, the western termini 
of the Chicago, Milwaukee & Puget Sound Railway. 

Seattle is the oldest American settlement on Puget Sound and 
one of the most beautiful cities in the United States. Little more 
than fifty years ago the first settlers landed upon its difficult shores, 
but those who camped there and laid the foundations of a town 
had no dreams commensurate with the splendor of the present 
reality. The discovery of gold in Alaska, the Yukon stampede, 
and the establishment of oriental trade were among the factors 
that gave the city its phenomenal impetus. By reason of its 
exceptional location, it commands the commerce of the Western 
Hemisphere. Its harbor is admirable, deep and ample in size, and 
its railroad facilities and terminals are upon a magnificent scale. 
Enterprise is the basic quality of Seattle, and wealth abounds. The 
scenic beauty surrounding the city is unsurpassed; the heavy mass 
of the Cascade Mountains is but a short distance to the east, and 
the glorious snow-crowned Olympics make a thrilling picture on 
the west, when their rugged outlines come out in sharp relief against 
a sunset sky. 

Scarcely a mile east of the sound is Lake Washington, a 
beautiful body of fresh water lying within a nest of hills, making 



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a wonderful recreation spot right at the city's door, accessible by 
street cars, and having Interlachen Boulevard, one of the most 
charming drives in the world, leading up to and around its shores. 
This magnificent avenue rises and dips with the contour of the hills, 
running a long distance through a parkway system that challenges 
those of the oldest cities. On either side are enchanting glimpses 
of water and hillside covered in dark evergreens, with palatial 
homes and broad avenues, flower lined, alternating in the view, and 
if the day is clear, the glittering, icy dome of Mount Rainier, 
ninety miles away, crowns the prospect. The population of Seattle 
numbers about 250,000, and apart from the great things the city 
has accomplished in growth and progress the new projects under 
way are legion, among which is the opening of the Duwamish 
River and the construction of Lake Washington Canal, designed 
to give the city greater shipping facilities than any other port in 
the world. Its substantial character is further shown in the tall 
skyscraper structures, magnificent public buildings, docks, depots, 
hotels, churches, schools, and its elegant homes, which stand 
embowered in flowers and foliage, one of the noted sights of the 
Puget Sound city. 

Southward from Black River Junction lies the famous Puj^allup 
Valley, where in its splendid bottoms the finest farms flourish, 
thriving towns dot the landscape and multiply as the line 
approaches Tacoma, the beautiful city of Commencement Bay 
and the second in size on Puget Sound. Its population is over 
80,000 and it is one of the most desirable of all western cities, 
both in respect to its commercial possibilities and its advantages as 





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Washington Firs— Tacoma Eastern Railway 




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a place of residence. Its tide-flat area off'ers unsurpassed facilities 
for the development of manufactures, and its noble deep-sea 
harbor, with miles of shore line and acres of dockage, invites the 
shipping of the world. It has been said that Tacoma's water front 
was her greatest asset, and it already has six miles of wharves, on 
which are the largest warehouses in the world. Its business streets 
are models of substantial construction, while its public buildings 
display the wealth and good taste of the community. The city 
rises from the water level, with hillsides terraced and blossoming, 
where beautiful homes and lovely parks mark the line above the 
business center. From the wooded bluffs that crown the shore 
is a scene of matchless splendor. Mount Rainier rises sheer 
from sea-level, to the southeast, — "a Heaven-sustaining bulwark" 
that stands immeasurably away from and above its companions 
of the Cascade Range sweeping to the north and west; toward 
the Olympics, the most beautiful and rugged of all the western 
mountain ranges. Tacoma is known as "The Home City," and 
its gardens of roses, its endless varieties of flowering shrubs and 
plants and display of architectural beauty make it justly famous. 
As becomes a town of such wealth and refinement, the educational 
advantages are exceptional and the Tacoma high school enjoys 
a deserved reputation for beauty of design, construction and 
complete equipment. In connection with this high school, and 
its scheme of physical as well as mental training, is an enormous 
stadium, one of the largest and finest in this country, built to 
accommodate 25,000 people. Within its arena all the outdoor sports 
are presented, while its location, on the shores of Puget Sound, 




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gives spectators an opportunity to review tiie maneuvers of fleets 
and the various watcrcraft coming to Tacoma's roadstead for a 
summer meeting. 

Tiie country adjacent to Paget Sound's meandering shore 
line is full of interest and beaut)-, and many trips of unmixed 
enjoyment may be included in an itinerary of the Pacific North- 
west's "splendid water avenue." The Seattle suburbs skirt the 
shore line of Elliott Bay and may be reached by electric cars or by 
ferry and steamer, affording delightful excursions by land or by sea. 
Tacoma sweeps around the long c>)ntour of Commencement Bay, 
and its list of resorts comprises some of the most delightful trips in 
this section. A trip to Bremerton and return is an enjojable day's 
ride by steamer, with several hours to inspect the United States 
Na\'\' Yards located there. Bremerton is beautifully situated on an 
arm of Paget Sound, where the entire United Slates Navy might 
ride without crowding. These yards, although of comparatively 
recent establishment, have a fine and complete equipment, including 
enormous dry-docks, where the largest battleships may be floated 
onto the stays direct from deep water, and there is scarcely a week 
passes by bat that one or more of Uncle Sam's famous sea-fighters 
do not put in there. 

A water excursion of more than usual interest is north to Port 
Townsend, at the head of Admiralty Inlet, the port of entry and 
departure for all the shipping to and from yMaska and the Orient. 
The voyage up the Sound is most delightful, the historic, forest- 
bordered water-course, with its myriad slender arms winding in 
every direction, having an enchanting beauty and a char.ii not 



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comparable with any other of the world's inland seas. Beyond 
the western shores lie the great unexplored Olympic Mountains, 
their whitened crowns towering into the skies and their dark, 
rock-ribbed sides sloping steeply toward the northern seas. On 
the east are the Cascades, with their snow-domed sentinels at 
north and south, and far in the north the Selkirk Mountains loom 
in shadowy outline. Port Townsend is delightfully situated, high 
above a magnificent harbor, through which the warm Japan 
Current flows, tempering the climate to absolutely ideal conditions. 
Although almost completely surrounded by water, the rainfall is 
light, and the range of temperatures make it a perfect all-the-year 
resort and residence. Port Townsend and the history of Washington 
are inseparable. It is the Government headquarters for the 
Puget Sound district, and within easy access, by carriage road and 
by waterway, are three military posts, of which Fort Worden is the 
largest, and the headquarters of the coast defense. The city is 
also a base for naval and revenue cutter service, the Puget Sound 
customs, and the United States public health and marine hospital 
service. 

The Tacoma Eastern Railway, running southeasterly from 
Tacoma, leads into the heart of Washington's big timber, and on 
to that "Wonderland of the Cascades," the Rainier National Park, 
with Mount Rainier, the silent sentinel of Puget Sound, in its 
midst. The section adjacent to the railroad, for some distance 
south of Tacoma, has been cut over and the cleared land is under 
high cultivation, producing garden stuffs, fruits, poultry and dairy 
necessities for the Puget Sound cities and a wide area of country. 



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Notwithstanding tiiis, lumber maintains suprcmac)' In the Idcalit}', 
and tiie hum of the saw is heard in ail the outlying towns. The 
rails skirt the edge of beautiful valle\s and charming lakes that are 
the haunts of lovers of the rod and line. Kapowsin and Ohop are 
the largest of these, and they find their outlets in swiftly running 
brooks, where the speckled and rainbow beauties throng. The 
route discloses at frequent intervals marvelous views of Mount 
Rainier, its snow-enveloped slopes reaching down to the tree-tops 
of the valley. Circling abo\'e a wide, grassy basin, the line enters 
the canyon of the Nisqually River, following its winding course, 
with the mad stream dashing between tremendous rocky walls, 
hundreds of feet below. 

Eatonville and Elbe, enterprising lumber centers, are note- 
worthy as being old stage relay stations in the days before the 
railroad. The vine-covered porch of the old Snow Tavern, at the 
former place, looks out on the beautiful mountain that hangs 
cloud-enwreathed in the blue heavens, thirty miles away 

At Electron, near Kapowsin, the Pu\'allup Ri\er is harnessed 
to the immense plant of the Puget Sound Power Compan_\-, that 
supplies Tacoma and Seattle with electric current. The city of 
Tacoma is constructing another plant which will recei\'e its power 
from the Nisquall)' Ri\cr at this point. This river will be turned 
from its beautiful canyon gorge into a tunnel 10,000 feet long, 
which will carry it to the power-house on the ri\er below. These 
rivers are both glacial streams from the summit of the great 
mountain, and thus "The mountain that was God" to the Indian, 
obeys the call of the white man "to do his high brln ^i." 



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Connecting with the Tacoma Eastern at McKenna, about 
thirty miles from Tacoma, the Gray's Harbor line extends westward 
to Gray's Harbor on the Pacific Coast, tapping rich timber districts 
and running many miles through forests of immense cedar, some 
of the largest in the State. This line reaches wide-awake new cities 
that have come into existence within the last few years, each 
one a type of the phenomenal development throughout the North 
Pacific territory. Cosmopolis, Aberdeen and Hoquiam are the 
prominent cities on Gray's Harbor that have tales of remarkable 
progress to publish in connection with their advantageous location 
and the limitless resources of the surrounding territory. 

Gray's Harbor is one of the best on the Pacific Coast. Trans- 
Pacific steamships sail between its principal cities and the ports of 
Asia, Australia and the South Sea Islands, and statistics prove 
that more lumber is shipped from Gray's Harbor to foreign markets 
than from any other port in the world. 

Timber and lumber industries are, of course, paramount now 
in this district, some of these ranking among the largest in the 
world; but the wonderful productivity of the soil, the equable 
climate and the growing demand of nearby markets are turning 
this into a great agricultural country. Diversified farming, dairying 
and poultry-raising are ideal pursuits here. 

At Park Junction the Tacoma Eastern branches, one branch 
extending to Ashford, the other penetrating the noted Big Bottom 
Lands of the Cowlitz River, a country of remarkable fertility. 
This latter route, running through "Big Trees," passes Mineral 
Lake, a charming little water sheet cradled among mountains, with 




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Rainier looking over a gap in the hills to catch sight of a perfect 
reflection in the still, deep waters of the lake. This is one of the 
noted fishing resorts, where the biggest and gamest of the tribes 
are found. There is a delightful little hotel in the town of Mineral, 
built of logs and vine-embowered, adding its mite to the picturesque 
surroundings. 

Ashford is the station for the Rainier National Park, and 
auto-stages leave from this place for the incomparable trip up the 
mountain. Leaving the little forest hamlet the State road begins 
the ascent, leading through long aisles of stately evergreens and 
passing many attractive mountain resorts built "in the clearing." 
Toward National Park gateway the silent forests loom in their 
prime\al majesty, with an undergrowth so dense that bright day- 
light is unknown, yet the wealth of brilliant green and the wonderful 
carpeting of ferns and flowers is almost beyond belief. In brief 
openings of the woodlands, where a brawling stream leaps over a 
steep and rocky bed, are rare and beautiful glimpses of the great 
mountain, with passing views of mighty peaks which constitute the 
monarch's guard of honor. An almost perpendicular cliff seen 
through the limber, with the towering pinnacle that crowns it, the 
Indians called Turn Tum. Others of the guard which are named 
are Arrow Head, Goat Mountain, Bald Eagle and P\ramid peaks, 
all belonging to the jagged Tatoosh group, which may be seen far 
and wide throughout the Puget Sound country. 

The drive by auto-bus to Longmire Springs, where the National 
Park Inn is located, is up an easy grade, requiring one hour 
and a quarter of time; and as the road curves into the spacious 



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driveway at the Inn the full impressive splendor of Mount Rainier, 
"on a throne of rock, in a robe of clouds and a diadem of snow," 
leaps with magnificent challenge into the foreground. The huge 
dome sweeps up and up, its "snows that are older than history" 
glistening white and pearly, glowing from pink to rose or glittering 
blue and Icy, with the changing light and shadow, while the 
encircling chain of cloud-reaching summits that are robed in green, 
in brown, and flecked and tipped with white closes in — an austere 
assembly before an imperial throne. Longmire Springs is one of 
the noted natural resorts of the Northwest. The springs, of which 
there are many, are destined to grow in fame by reason of their 
strong medicinal qualities and their curative efficiency. The 
waters are delightfully effervescent and are pronounced equal to 
those of the most celebrated spas of the world. 

National Park Inn is the starting point for the numerous drives 
and excursions into the surrounding mountains and valleys and 
up Mount Rainier, even to the brink of the craters and "Columbia's 
Crest." The government road extends above the Inn, past the 
terminal walls of the huge Nisqually Glacier, ascending by easy 
gradient and numerous switch-backs, passing over the head of a 
mad, dashing cataract which, with a wild leap, plunges into a deep 
abyss, and still ascending reaches Paradise Park, where flowers 
carpet the earth that touches the base of Rainier's snow line and 
raise their beautiful blossoms beside the icy glacier itself. Stages 
make this drive daily, creeping slowly up the wide and wonderful 
road, the depths becoming more profound as the valley sinks 
from sight. The vistas opening through the forest display a wild 



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^ ■' ' .^*yft? r-'^fer . a ■_" ar..- -s^'^.-^ - '-j*- 



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The Silent Sentinel of Puftet Sound 




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confusion of jagged peaks tossed in bewildering mass against the 
sky line, and with every turn of the winding road there comes 
nearer, more solemnly glorious views of "The Mountain;" and it 
is these returning glimpses, keeping expectation alert, that casts 
the final spell. Thereafter its lure is ever present. Wherever one 
may be, howsoever wide his travels, that call of the snow-crowned 
monarch is overmastering; its insistence must be recognized. 

As the ascent from the Inn progresses the road appears far 
back in the valley at a prodigious depth, and at dizzy heights 
above, creeping carefully around the edge of the projecting cliffs. 
Occasional glimpses are caught of the wild Nisqually River, 
brawling over its rock-strewn bed, until the bleak and frowning 
front of its glacier appears, with the river pouring in rippling 
stream from the ice cave beneath the ponderous terminal wall. 
Above the glacier the road ascends on a sharper gradient, clinging 
to the cliffs that rise sheer above the valley, and when the summit 
is reached the scene which unrolls on every side, and in the 
awesome depths, defies description. The stern, uncompromising 
grandeur is fairly terrifying. The valley is lost, 1,000 feet below, 
and the pinnacles tower 1,000 feet above, while the road seems to 
hover in midair, and seems projected into space at the point of the 
jutting cliff. 

Rounding this observation point, the road continues onward 
to Paradise Valley, crossing above Narada Falls, one of the most 
beautiful mountain cataracts in the world. Paradise Valley is like . 
a wide and rolling park, covered with a confusion of beautiful 
bloom. An annex to National Park Inn is located on Alta Vista, 
the most attractive spot in Paradise \'alley, which provides thor- 
oughly first-class accommodation for all who wish to remain and 
commune with the majesty of Nature. The mountain looms right 
at hand and one may cross to its snow fields and look down upon 
mammoth glaciers. Cataracts that leap in foaming whiteness over 
the somber precipices mingle in the splendor of the scene, and air 
as soft as the breath of summer roses gives no hint that this is the 
boundary of eternal snows and rivers of ice. 

Alount Rainier has a larger glacial system than the entire 
Swiss Alps and these immense ice fields are of never-failing Interest. 
The climb to the summit of Mount Rainier is made from Paradise 
Valley, and for those who are less ambitious there are many other 
very dignified heights to scale. 

Another famous trip from the Inn Is by pony and mountain 
trail to Indian Henry's Hunting Grounds, where mirrored lakes and 
marvelous vistas, with the king of the Cascades in overwhelming 
glory, add to the compelling power of this, one of the grandest of 
Nature's wonders. 

Alount Ralnler's glaciers are steadily wearing their way Into 
the great peak, and it Is estimated that they will eventually level 
the mountain with the plain. In prehistoric ages this was a volcanic 



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peak, its three craters are distinct and visible, while tiie massive, 
truncated cones indicate the force of their eruptions. Its burnt-out 
craters are now filled with snow, above which towers the great 
snow mound that is called Columbia's Crest, being the highest 
point in the United States outside of Alaska. Twelve great 
glacial rivers grind their way down the mountain, besides 
numberless secondary or "interglaciers." The great glaciers are 
named White, the largest of all, Cowlitz, Ingraham, Winthrop, 
Carbon, North and South Mowich, Puyallup, North and South 
Tahoma, Kautz and Nisqually. The most important of the 
secondary glaciers are Interglacicr, Paradise, Stevens, Frying Pan 
and \ an Trump. 

Such, briefly, is the story of the new railroad, of the new land 
it traverses and something of the scenic beauties along its way. 
If the panorama here attempted would seem at times to have been 
overdrawn, and again, possibly, not altogether adequate, let it be 
remembered that the new conditions in the northwest country's 
development produce results that would have been considered 
nothing less than miraculous a few years ago; that, although it 
reads like the Arabian Nights, it is reality. Let it also be borne in 
mind that Nature in her varying aspects may never be perfectly 
portrayed by pen or pencil. Art and the works of men fall within 
the power of language, but in the harmonics of the Infinite there 
are no discords, and their final appeal may not be altogether inter- 
preted through the medium of words. To hav^e seen the wonders 
of the Western World is to believe in their possibilities and to know 
that "those who paint them truest praise them most " 



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CHICAGO, MILWAUKEE & PUGET SOUND RAILWAY 

R M. CALKINS GEO W. HIBBARD 

Traffic Manager General Passenger Agent 

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON 



ACR 




One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



()t£. 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS Ij 



■ - >i'...n.„,N, Ill,,,, „|„,^ 

014 754 583 6 # 




CHICAEO 

'Milwaukee 

t PUEETSOUND V 



